New Blood
by Saber Alexander McConnell
Rated PG13

CHAPTER 15: Dark Brotherhood

Kale could not put into words how dismal his failure had been. Even as he had called the retreat, he dreaded Talpa's anger, his disappointment, and the punishment he would endure for his inadequacy. And worse than all of that was Kale's disgust with himself, thinking that he deserved whatever he would get. Always overconfident in his abilities, both as a leader and as a warrior, in the last decades he bad begun to turn some of the surface arrogance into true pride for his abilities. When he watched the lesser warlords execute a fighting move he had taught them, or when he and the other two warlords worked out a battle tactic, he felt pride both for them and himself.

But when he did badly, especially something as important as this mission had been, his disappointment in himself ran deep.

When Kale called his forces back into retreat, phasing himself back into the corrupted realm he called home, he understood that Talpa knew exactly what had happened. His rage could be felt in every corner of the Nether World, and Kale winced on feeling it. The lesser warlords looked at him with fear in their eyes. They had never felt Talpa's rage at its strongest, but they well knew what happened when Talpa was displeased.

Kale took a big breath and looked to Dais and Sekhmet, neither of whom looked too thrilled themselves. They didn't need to speak. Kale turned to the lower ranks and told them to wait outside, then closed his eyes and appeared in Talpa's throne room.

He knelt immediately on appearing in the room, catching the flashes on either side of him that indicated Dais and Sekhmet had also arrived and knelt. Without even looking up, Kale spoke. "My master, I have no excuse. I will take full responsibility for our failure."

It had not been an easy decision to make. He remembered a time when he would have gladly blamed one of the others for his failure, at the very least ensuring they shared his punishment, but he had learned a great deal in the past hundred years. He had come to stop thinking of Dais and Sekhmet as his rivals, and begun thinking of them as comrades. Even friends, though he would not come right out and say so.

Even Talpa was taken aback by Kale's declaration; he could sense the demon's surprise as easily as he had felt his rage. He looked up briefly and saw Sekhmet's astonished expression, and heard Dais utter, "Kale--", but Kale did not reply. He only looked up at Talpa, who peered down at him for only a moment before nodding grimly. Kale squeezed his eyes shut as a blast of dark energy engulfed him, and he was gone from the room.

Talpa turned to Dais and Sekhmet, both of which looked more afraid than either would ever admit to feeling. "Get out of my sight," said Talpa disgustedly. "Dais. You will ensure the underlings are reprimanded for this failure as well."

"Yes, Master," said Dais, bowing low before hurrying out of the throne room. He caught sight of Sekhmet doing the same, then jogging to meet Dais outside the room, though neither of them said anything.

Dais was quite caught up in his own thoughts, conflicting and overwhelming in his mind. His feelings about Kale's actions were extremely mixed; his first thought was annoyance at what at first seemed to be a senseless act of pride. At the first, Dais thought Kale had done so to curry favor, or admiration for his bravery, or responsibility, or whatever it was he was trying to show off.

The conflict came when Dais remembered the look Kale had given him when he spoke Kale's name. It had been a look not of annoyance or one telling him to mind his place; he was a look of concern. He truly did not want Dais and Sekhmet to endure the punishment he knew was coming. 'He was doing what he thought he must,' Dais thought, nodding his head. Once he got over his initial, childish resentment, Dais found himself respecting Kale for it.

He would not let Kale do it again, however. The next time, he would share in the responsibility—and hoped Sekhmet would as well. A team, as they should have been from the very start.

When Dais brought himself back to his surroundings, he noted he and Sekhmet had gone outside, and Dais hadn't even realized it. He also realized that Sekhmet was in the middle of a rant, as usual. "And what did he think he was pulling? He's already in charge!"

"He wasn't 'pulling' anything," said Dais irritably. He felt a little silly being annoyed, since he himself had had the exact same thoughts Sekhmet was voicing. He paused for a moment as Sekhmet gave him a glare, and forced the annoyance from his tone. "He wasn't."

Sekhmet's look was more suspicious now than angry, and he stopped, looking at Dais. Dais stopped also, peering mildly at Sekhmet with his good eye. "What do you mean, he wasn't? Of course he was, why else--"

"Think," said Dais. "You said it yourself: he's already leader. It would be stupid for him to willingly endure the kind of pain Master Talpa inflicts for failure, as it would curry him no favor. He gains nothing from taking full responsibility for the entire group."

"Oh, I suppose he was being honorable," said Sekhmet, the sarcasm dripping from his words like the venom dripped from his armor.

"Yes," said Dais seriously. Once it was said aloud, it made sense. Kale believed what he fought for with all his spirit, and to him, it was a matter of honor. And, Dais admitted to himself, it was the same with himself. "Have you learned nothing, Sekhmet? Nothing in five hundred years?" He was glad to see a look of shame and indignation settle on Sekhmet's face. "We've learned to work together. We've even learned to be a team. But only now are we learning the most important part of all of this; brotherhood." Dais shook his head wonderingly at his own words. Never would he have thought he would preach about brotherhood to another warlord. Never. But he did not regret it. He was right, and he knew it, and if he had to ram it physically into Sekhmet's head, he would see to it that Sekhmet understood it, too! Kale had been the first. Had it really taken Dais that long to truly comprehend?

Sekhmet's face was set into a deep scowl, though Dais wasn't sure if it was really aimed at Dais, his words, or the situation in general. He opened his mouth a couple of times, clearly wanting to retort, to argue, but finally only sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said. "Brother."

Anger rose in Dais's throat at the sarcasm, but he swallowed it and nodded. Sarcastic or not, it was more than he'd gotten before from Sekhmet. "Come on," he said with a sigh. "We need to talk to the lessers." That's what the three ranking warlords usually called the lower ranks out of their earshot, the "lessers". They were lesser; lesser in rank, age, and experience.

Seemingly eager for the change in subject, Sekhmet nodded his head and followed Dais's lead.

Outside the palace, on the large, bare stretch of rock the warlords used for their training sessions, all seven of the lesser warlords had waited for word from Master Talpa. One of the Americans, Moral Sullivan, looked worried and tense. Others, like Heath Jenkins and Vittorio Digaetano, hid their anxiety behind a casual mask of indifference. Jin Tanaka, her face showing no expression as usual, quietly went through several katana exercises, ignoring everyone else.

Tai Shuang and Cade Taylor had started fighting with each other to expend their own fearful energy; Shuang had arrogantly let Cade use his chain weight while he fought unarmed. Both indignant and amused, Cade had taken the weapon, and they were currently battling towards the end of the slab. Haazita Mushota watched the fight with a grin on her face, yelling both encouragement and friendly insults at the pair in her own language. It was clear neither of them understood everything, but enough to throw an indignant reply back every once in a while.

Dais and Sekhmet approached, watching the scene for a few minutes. Sekhmet looked somewhere between exasperated and amused, but Dais felt no amusement at all. He did not normally mind the fighting between Shuang and Cade, and sometimes between the others. He did not normally disdain the friendly insults, or the arrogant masks the others wore. But there was a time and place for everything, and this was neither the time nor place for any of it!

He didn't even think. He stepped forward and silently armored up, grabbing the scythe fan from his back and sending its blades crashing into the cliff face that bordered one side of the training slab. The lesser warlords all stopped immediately, spinning around to look at Dais as he called, "Tou chi mou!"

Fine strands of webbing spun from the scythe blades, too quickly to be reacted to, and bound all seven of the startled warriors where they stood. He glared at them each in turn, striding forward and taking in the scene. "Have any of you any idea how serious our battle is? Our war? Do you know how dearly our failure might have cost our master? How dare you take this day so lightly?"

After a moment's surprised pause, Sekhmet stepped up to stand at Dais's side, a quiet show of support. Dais appreciated the gesture, his annoyance with the younger warlord dissipating a bit. He turned his attention then back to the lessers, glaring first at Vittorio and Heath. "How nonchalantly you two take our defeat," he said caustically, narrowing his eye. "Does it mean nothing to you? If nothing else, does your pride so easily accept that you were sent running like frightened children by a pack of untrained whelps?" Dais was gratified to see a look of outrage on Vittorio's face, and a sudden flush on Heath's.

"And you," said Sekhmet, nodding disgustedly to Moral, who looked terrified. "Find some courage, boy! By the gods, you were selected by Master Talpa himself to serve him—you are a warlord of the Dynasty! If your soul truly bears no courage, at least learn to hide your cowardice."

Dais nodded in approval as Moral blushed, glaring down at his feet; Dais turned then to Shuang and Cade, both of whom wore nearly identical expressions of sheepishness. "There is a time and a place for everything," said Dais quietly to them. His quiet voice was sometimes worse than his shouting, because the fury showed more brilliantly through. "I came out here hoping to fix the problem, the problem that caused our failure today, and I come out to see you two cavorting like a pair of tiger cubs!" Dais's voice rose angrily as he spoke, and he gave a slight jerk of his extendable scythes, constricting the webs around Cade and Shuang painfully for a few moments before setting the pair loose. They at least managed not to cry out, and both bowed in hasty repentance.

Haazita stood behind them, looking smug, and Dais turned then to her. "Don't think I didn't notice your egging them on," he said disgustedly, releasing the rest of the webs, and she shrugged. Dais narrowed his eye. "I don't care how much the sight of fighting excites you, woman, you'll leave if for the appropriate time!"

This time Haazita flushed, visible even on her dark skin, and she nodded, narrowing her eyes. Compliance, for now, but she wasn't happy about it.

Finally, Dais and Sekhmet turned to Jin Tanaka, who returned their gaze evenly. There was no defiance or disrespect in her face, and she simply stood watching them, as if ready to listen to whatever reprimand they might have for her. Dais looked to Sekhmet, who only shrugged a little as if to say, "Beats me." Dais knew how he felt. There was something about Jin that screamed non-conformity, but it was nearly impossible to pin down. Her ways were traditional, her goals aligned perfectly with the rest of the group, and she did what she was told. And yet...

"Deal with the rest of these half-wits," said Dais to Sekhmet, giving a strong tug and retracting the scythes and replacing the scythe-fan on his back. "I wish to speak with Jin away from the others.

Sekhmet nodded in acknowledgement, and they briefly clasped the other's forearm before parting ways. Sekhmet summoned the six lessers, who followed him from the slab, all looking appropriately contrite, and Dais walked up to speak with Jin.

At first he did not mention the fight or their failure. He asked questions about her wishes and how she viewed the others. He asked her feelings on Talpa, and of what she wanted for the Dynasty. He watched her eyes, her stance, and listened carefully to her words and tone of voice. As he talked, he began to realize what, exactly, the problem was.

It was her mask. Not the mask she wore with her armor, but the mask she wore that hid her real self from the others. He had rarely seen that mask crack, and more often than not it was when she lost her temper with one of the other lessers. Dais understood the mask. There was a certainty amount of vulnerability involved in showing one's true self to anyone, even the smallest bit. It had taken him quite a while to show himself to his new comrades. But this woman—this woman was an icicle. If she cared for any of the other warlords, she didn't show it. If she cared about the Dynasty, she didn't show it. She did exactly as she should, and worked hard to train and ready herself for her battles—but that was all she did. If she had hobbies, Dais didn't know about them, and when she was not training, she locked herself in her quarters.

No one seemed to know how to deal with someone like that, and so kept an awkward distance. Dais had no idea whatsoever what to do about it, either. He would need to speak with Kale—when he was released from the dungeon—and brainstorm on ideas. Kale seemed to know best among them how to deal with other people. Dais was half tempted to have Sekhmet concoct some kind of drug to lower the woman's damned shield.

When the conversation was over, Dais admonished Jin to try harder the next time she fought, and she assured him that she would. He dismissed her to her quarters, and she walked off with cold assuredness towards the castle.

"I'm not a warlord," he muttered to himself as he also headed back. "I'm a wet-nurse."

When he met later with Sekhmet, Venom reported that he confined them to their quarters for the day and said they should think about what Dais had said to them that day, and come to a decision about when it was appropriate to play. Sekhmet chuckled. "I think you really got through to a couple of them," he said. "Shuang and the kid were good-natured enough about it, said they were sorry for acting like...'dorks', I believe the kid said."

Dais laughed aloud, surprising both Sekhmet and himself. Sometimes the others' language took him aback. It wasn't as if he were completely unused to modern language, but he was unused to so many languages, and "dork" was a new one to him.

"I know," said Sekhmet, chuckling. "Some of those English words."

"Yes. They have a way with words at times. Crude ones, certainly." The language barrier had been quite a challenge to get around at first. Talpa had of course been able to see to it they all understood one another, but the differences in language were still obvious, and very distracting. Everyone had since learned Japanese, even Moral, who had been here the least time. But all of them, even the senior warlords, had learned a little bit of the others' languages. Sekhmet seemed to enjoy the Italian swear words, and Cade—well Cade already knew all of the represented languages, and then some. Dais shook his head, looking to Sekhmet. "When Kale returns, we'll gather them and go over exactly why we were not successful. We cannot have a repeat of this humiliation."

Serious again, Sekhmet agreed. "Those brats will pay for this," he vowed. "They're untrained and inexperienced. Seemed to me they all kinda got thrown into this whole "Ronin" thing. They're no warriors. Not yet."

"We need to teach a brutal lesson," he said. "Show no mercy in dealing with them. Perhaps after the agony of your poisons or my blades, or Kale's lightning slash, they'll be reconsidering their choices."

Sekhmet smiled nastily at the idea. "Heath and I have been working on a couple of new venoms. I think I'll go down to my apothecary tonight and do some work on them." He chuckled. "Guess that's about all to be done until Master Talpa tells us the next plan."

It was true. What needed to be done was done, and now all they had to do was wait, wait until Kale was released, and Talpa decided what he wanted to do next.

---

Kale was no stranger to the passages and chambers and dungeons beneath the palace; Talpa had reconstructed his fortress exactly as it had been, down to the last stone.

There were several chambers and traps beneath the fortress, used to restrain or cage up an unwary enemy, and Kale had often made good use of them when fighting the last group of Ronin Warriors. But it was not only the enemies of Talpa who saw the dungeons below. Those of his servants who greatly displeased him were sent there as well, to be corrected.

Dark energy phased his physical self out of being, reforming it in one of the many chambers below, one Kale recognized well. The Ronin themselves had once been prisoners here; at least three of them had, victim to the Nether Spirits Kale could see beginning to crowd around. He looked up at the binders of dark energy that bound his hands above him, and down to his body, which was clad only in his sub-armor. He looked back up, not bothering to hide his fear, as they swooped down.

He'd experienced something similar once when he and the others had asked Talpa for more power, and had never asked again, not realizing what a horror it was to endure. It had empowered him, yes, but the agony wasn't worth it.

As the first spirit began to pour its energy into Kale, he groaned, closing his eyes in anticipation. One was bearable, but the pain increased twofold for every spirit that joined. This time he felt the dark power, but it gave him no strength, only pain and weakness.

Two more joined the first, as the Nether Spirits were as restless as the warlords, and eager to have a victim. Kale screamed for the first time as the fourth joined in. He could feel every wisp of evil seep into his bones, his muscles, his very mind and spirit. It fueled his fury, his darkest emotions, even as it seared his mind with pain.

His knees buckled, putting the entirety of his weight on his bound wrists, but he scarcely felt it, lost already in the swirling blackness the Nether Spirits brought.

Kale lost all track of time, each second the same as the one before it. He could form no thoughts, no words; he could only endure. He hated Talpa for it, even as he felt he deserved it for his failure and weakness. But the one thing that burned the most fiercely was his hatred for the dirty, wretched little brats who managed to humiliate him and his warlords. He longed to have them in here, the energy from his longsword coursing through them...

The very satisfying vision fractured beneath a new onslaught of pain.

---

That night, lying on the pallet he slept upon in his quarters, Sekhmet stared up at the ceiling. A strange sort of anxiety was keeping him awake, and he could not identify its source. It was possible it was a combination of things; the apparent irreverence of the younger warlords, their humiliating debacle, their leader being at that moment punished in the dungeon... Sekhmet scowled darkly as he thought about Dais's scolding earlier, lecturing Sekhmet about brotherhood and unity. He resented being reprimanded for not playing nice with the others.

Though...he wouldn't admit it to Dais, he could see the older man's point. Even Sekhmet had to admit to himself that he was far happier when they weren't fighting like cats and dogs. As much as he enjoyed conflict, there was, as Dais often said, a time and place for everything. He sighed and sat up, feeling sulky, and lit the lamp beside his pallet, staring moodily at the walls. Why did they fight, anyway? Sibling rivalry? Sekhmet laughed quietly, imagining them having been raised as children, competing for their parents' attention. But his smile faded quickly at the unflattering vision, realizing it was truer than he'd at first thought. They had all competed for Talpa's favor. How ridiculous must that have looked? Even Kale, who was already their leader once Anubis betrayed them and was killed, had fought constantly.

His thoughts brought to Kale, Dais allowed himself to analyze exactly how it was he felt about Kale. He'd loathed the man at first, his smug demeanor, his smooth ways. He hated Kale's seniority over him, and how he managed to make Sekhmet look foolish more often than he would have liked. Sekhmet was the youngest, the least ranked of the four, and Kale in particular never let him forget it at first. Of course that never stopped Sekhmet from speaking his mind, even to Talpa himself. It got him into more trouble than the others, too, but he didn't care. He wasn't the kind to stay silent if he had something he wanted to say.

But as they fought side by side, watched one another fail or succeed, watched their skill grow—they still hated each other half the time, but those times were less and less. Sekhmet remembered all the times that Talpa had set them against one another, so subtly encouraging their competition, bestowing favor to he who pleased him the most. Sekhmet wondered why he had done so, if he'd wanted a unified team. Talpa must have feared what would happen if they ever banded together against him.

Why the difference now? Not only had Talpa begun "encouraging" them to work together and quit squabbling, but he'd recruited seven others and done the same thing with them. 'Master Talpa must be confident in his abilities to control us,' Sekhmet thought. 'He has grown quite strong again. Maybe stronger than ever.' He did not understand why Talpa should worry, why he should fear them. Sekhmet, for one, felt nothing but loyalty for Master Talpa. He might sass him on occasion, or protest his decisions, but his true loyalty never wavered. He knew it was the same with the others as well; Dais was always more cautious than the others, speaking carefully and weighing his actions, throwing his caution to the winds only when trying to please Talpa.

And Kale...

Once again, Sekhmet's thoughts were wrenched back to Kale. He supposed Kale was honorable, doing what he believed, and doing his best to lead. Since the lessers had joined them, Sekhmet had for the first time found himself in a leadership position. He could far better appreciate Kale's burden! Now that Talpa had stopped distracting the warlords with enmity and formed them into a team, Kale's own code of honor was able to shine unhindered. 'Master Talpa didn't even need to punish him,' he thought after a moment. 'Kale's probably miserable enough about our failure.'

Sekhmet sighed and rolled over to try and sleep, blowing out the lamp that sat next to his bed. He adjusted his position so that the breastplate of his sub-armor didn't dig into his side; he didn't always sleep half-armored, but when he was feeling in any way discontent, he usually did, and tonight he was quite discontent.

Sleep had nearly claimed him when the first echo shot through his head, and he sat bolt upright, his eyes wide. A scream. It had been a scream, and a frightening echo of soul-deep pain. Sekhmet lurched to his feet, and had nearly armored up, when the feeling faded. He stood, shaken by the strange, sudden phenomenon, and stood quietly, listening.

Several minutes later, it had happened again, more solid this time, and definitely in Sekhmet's own head. Sekhmet did not often admit fear, sometimes not even to himself, but he had never experienced anything like this. Was it Master Talpa? Had he caught Sekhmet's thoughts about him? He had never done so before, but that didn't mean he could not do so now. "What in the hells?" he hissed.

It was not until he heard a shrieked curse that he realized with astonished horror what he was experiencing; Sekhmet was feeling what Kale was going through down below. He felt a chill as the pain seemed to intensify, Kale's pain almost searing into Sekhmet's own soul; Sekhmet shivered, remembering his own experiences with Talpa's punishment, and feeling inexplicably upset at listening to Kale enduring it. Still enduring it. He had been sent below hours ago!

The most instinctive of the warlords, Sekhmet understood it must be the armor that was allowing them to link, perhaps bringing out an innate talent in the warlords themselves. The Ronin were able to connect like this, he knew, but the warlords never had. Why now? Was it truly a sign of brotherhood?

Another scream echoed through Sekhmet's head, sending a chill through him, and he knelt down on the floor with his eyes closed—he could not bring himself to do nothing while Kale suffered for a mistake they had all made. He had scoffed at the idea of honor, but it was entirely different to listen to Kale's screams of pain, and feel the soul-deep suffering the Nether Spirits inflicted. He shivered when he thought about Kale down there, enduring the pain, and found it upset him a great deal.

Not the most patient nor calm of the group, it was difficult, but he tried his best to focus and solidify the connection. He didn't think he would be able to speak with Kale, not as distracted as Kale would be, but if he could help ease the punishment somehow. He didn't know how to do it, he only did what seemed to feel right. He imagined looking at Kale, imagined grasping his shoulder, offering his strength. He envisioned the Nether Spirits, feeling his lip curl at the thought of them; those he had always loathed. He imagined taking some of their dark energy into himself, deflecting it from Kale.

It was several minutes, as Sekhmet was able to focus and calm himself, that he was able to discern a marked difference in Kale's feel. The half-mad, frantic fury, pain, and fear lessened; Sekhmet's mental presence was helping to keep them at bay!

He didn't know how long he kept it up. He felt Dais's presence join the link not long thereafter, though he wasn't sure Dais completely realized that Sekhmet was there. There was no actual communication, no words or even thoughts. Only feelings. Dais was trying to do the same thing that Sekhmet was, though lacking Sekhmet's natural intuition, wasn't sure what to do. Sekhmet took a big breath and focused for a moment on Dais, trying to share with him what he had done to share the burden. It seemed to have worked, for then they were both there, lending Kale their strength. They could not take the pain, but they could help Kale endure it.

The feeble light of the Nether Realm's sun had begun to glow weakly through Sekhmet's window before it stopped. The pain stopped abruptly, as if Kale had either been transported from the chambers below, or the Nether Spirits had all backed off at once, and Kale's mind went from pain to acute exhaustion. Sekhmet quickly withdrew his presence from Kale's mind, for some reason not wanting to be "caught" there. He felt faintly embarrassed—it was new to him to be like this. Not for hundreds of years had he cared about someone like this. And he hadn't really known it until now!

A strange sense of isolation came over Sekhmet as he withdrew, alone in his mind once more. Slumping against the wall, greatly wearied himself, he let himself wonder at what he had done, and even more astonishingly that he was glad he'd done it! Was this what the Ronin Warriors felt in their bond? Was this why they fought to the death for one another, and fought as if they were one person, not five?

Unable to keep his eyes open, Sekhmet lay down on his pallet, drifting into sleep. But his musings followed him into slumber, and stayed on his mind through the morning.

Sekhmet did not wake until it was nearly noon, astonished he had slept so long. 'Well, I didn't really sleep until dawn, did I?' he thought, remembering the events of the night. He wondered if Kale realized when he had Dais had done, and if he did, what he had thought of it. Would he be irritated that they'd shared the punishment that he intended to take on himself? Would he appreciate the efforts, or be embarrassed? Sekhmet tried to imagine how Kale would react, and found he could not. It wasn't anything that had ever happened among the three.

Kale gathered Dais and Sekhmet that afternoon, looking exhausted still, and strangely uncertain. 'He knows," thought Sekhmet suddenly, feeling uncertain himself. 'At least he suspects.' He looked at Dais, whose expression was not readable. Kale frowned, opened his mouth to speak, then sighed. Sekhmet caught Dais's eye, and saw that Dais knew exactly what had happened last night. A shrewd one, he, making up for a lack of instinct with shrewdness and wit.

Kale was no fool, either, and finally he spoke. "Last night..." he began hesitantly.

Kale didn't seem to know how to begin, and Sekhmet didn't blame him. What was he supposed to say? "Hey, were you guys in my head last night?" It wasn't something easily asked. With a mental shrug, Sekhmet decided to speak up instead. "Dais and I heard you last night. Mentally. We...well I did anyway, not sure how Dais knew...I heard you. Mentally."

He looked at Dais, who nodded grimly. "Yes. Both of us did, though Sekhmet felt it first."

Kale gazed at them both in disbelief. "It was you," he said wonderingly, and Sekhmet wondered briefly if he was shocked that they'd formed a mental bond, or that they had helped through his ordeal. "Both of you...giving me strength, staving off the Nether Spirits' energy..."

Sekhmet felt his face grown warm, and he sort of shrugged, nodding. "Yeah, it was us. Well—I couldn't just—do nothing."

Dais was a little more eloquent; Sekhmet finally understood what he had said the day previous, ideas of brotherhood that sounded shallow and meaningless in words. But he had truly felt it last night, and understood it now completely. "We won't let you take the blame next time, Kale," said Dais. "Neither of us. You don't take credit when we all succeed, you won't take the blame when we don't." As Kale opened his mouth to protest, Dais held up a curt hand. "No, Kale—not this time. You lead us, but on this one, you're overridden."

Kale's expression was strange: pride and astonishment, uncertainly and even fondness. He smiled tiredly, saying nothing, and Sekhmet realized that no words were needed now. Everything that needed to be said had been, and any more would just cheapen their brotherhood.

So Sekhmet said something else instead. "I wonder if we can actually speak with this new link."

"I think we must be able to," said Dais. "The Ronin Warriors can speak, I believe, with a similar link. We should work on this—how many times have we needed to contact one another, unable to because of distance?"

"It's true, it would be a great asset..." Kale did not come out and say that it was a great comfort as well, but the unspoken words seemed to hover in the air just the same.

Sekhmet grinned suddenly while Dais and Kale talked, stepping back and summoning his armor. He closed his eyes, trying to recapture how it had felt to connect with Kale's mind. How had he done it, anyway? He had imagined Kale's physical being, but surely he could simply sense Kale's presence, now that he knew what it felt like, and not have to go through the tedious series of steps. He tried it, delighted when he suddenly felt Kale within his mind—it was such a bizarre sensation, both frightening and pleasant at the same time. He grinned impishly and projected a thought, as he had projected his strength the night before.

Fear the might of Sekhmet!

Dais and Kale both spun around at the sudden, sinister cry inside their own heads, staring at Sekhmet, who laughed in sheer delight. "What did you do?" Kale hissed, his eyes wide with surprise.

"All I did was think," said Sekhmet, grinning behind his mask. "We were right, our armors have linked. Or we've linked. Either way—try it. Think deliberately, aim your thoughts at Dais and at me."

Kale and Dais exchanged a slightly uncertain look. Sekhmet knew that they were a little more cautious of new things than Sekhmet, but they'd already felt the bond, and had no reason to fear it.

So Kale tried first, closing his eyes and thinking carefully, Do you hear me? He was only in his sub-armor, but the words echoed clearly in Sekhmet's mind, and he wondered if they even needed to be in the armor at all. Smiling slowly, Kale opened his eyes and peered at the other two warlords. "Excellent," he said quietly.

"We must work on strengthening this link," said Dais as Sekhmet banished his armor. "One more factor on our side."

Cade and Shuang fighting.

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